


Flower Markets and Fuchsia Skirts

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver didn't just see Tommy five years ago in Hong Kong, he saw Felicity too...he just didn't remember it until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flower Markets and Fuchsia Skirts

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Hey everyone! So I wrote this awhile ago when the first spoilers were released stating that Tommy would be returning for the flashbacks. My mind immediately went...ooooh...what if he saw Felicity....
> 
> And out came this fic.
> 
> As always, I LOVE to know what you think! Thank you for your support! :)

It had been a comment in passing as the four of them sat around the Foundry eating the Chinese take-out Roy had brought them. 

Oliver had been explaining to Roy how he’d learned to fly - leaving out some details that he’d only told Diggle and Felicity that dealt too intimately with his past and those five years he’d been away.

“It’s ridiculously hot in Hong Kong,” Felicity had stated after a random mention of overheating a plane engine. “When I was there after my first year at QC, it was loud and hot - that’s what I remember. But the technology they manufacture around there is amazing…however technology does not like heat...”

Her eyes had glazed over then, a smile erupting from her lips before she shook her head and realized all of them had stopped eating staring at her; Diggle smirking fondly, Roy hiding a cough behind his chopsticks and Oliver with a gentle smile upon his lips.

“Anyway,” she’d shaken her head, blonde hair bouncing softly around her. “You were saying...”

There’d been a flash of something then, a tingling in the back of his mind that pulled at his subconscious. He frowned, but shook it off not able to completely capture the memory, and returned to the conversation.

That night he had a dream. She was _there_. Standing in a crowd across the street - her blond hair cascading in waves from her ponytail, rectangular frames perched on her nose. She wore a thin tank top and flowing, bright fuchsia skirt.

His heart pounded in his chest when she turned his direction, the corners of her mouth lifting up into a brilliant smile at something someone next to her had said.

In one split-second, their eyes met, blue on blue. She stopped laughing, but her smile remained.

Before he could react, a hand pushed on his shoulder from behind, propelling him forward and the contact was broken.

When he turned his head to sweep the area for her again, she had disappeared into the crowd.

Her name fell from his lips as he sat up, gasping for breath, sweat cloaking his body as if he was back there in that damp, oppressive heat. 

Looking around, he saw the familiar surroundings of the Foundry, and closed his eyes briefly to regain control of his instinct to kill or be killed; fight or flight.

He didn’t expect her voice to filter across the large expanse, and for the first time he noticed a soft glow coming from around the corner.

“Oliver?” she repeated, light footfalls approaching him and he pushed up from the mattress, pulling off the damp t-shirt just as she rounded the corner into the small space he’d sectioned off as his living quarters.

“Oh,” she stuttered upon seeing him, and he caught a glimpse of her face flushing slightly. “I thought I heard you call my name…I guess I’ve been staring at those monitors for too long…”

Her eyes dilated and she watched as they traveled down his torso, his own body reacting. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth as she pushed her glasses back up onto her nose.

He released a heavy sigh, throwing his shirt on the pile in the corner that he knew needed to be washed as she abruptly turned to leave.

“I did…” he said quietly, not wanting her to - the revelation from his dream catching him off guard.

How he hadn’t remembered it earlier was beyond his comprehension. But knowing she’d been there. He’d seen her...seen her smile, the sunlight bounce off her curls, dressed in bright colors, as always.

His chest tightened at knowing she’d been that close to him when he was stripping himself of everything that she had restored in him. It seemed like too much.

“When were you in Hong Kong?” he asked softly, his voice strained, needing to make sure it had been possible, even though he knew his dream was too real to have been anything else. 

He remembered it all now. That day; her skirt and glasses and blonde hair - a shade darker then. And her smile. The same smile. The one that filled him with such hope and lightness and love that all of his dreadful passed seemed to disappear.

“Um...almost five years ago, I think,” she said and he knew she’d have that perplexed look on her face if he’d turned around to see, but he couldn’t move - not until he’d made sure.

“Oliver...what…” she was closer, he could hear her take those few steps towards him, the timbre of her voice dropping as she drew near. Concern flowed out of her in waves and he swallowed as he felt her fingers hover over his flushed skin.

“Flower market on the east end, fuschia skirt...your hair was a little bit darker then,” he whispered hoarsely as if it pained him to say anything at all. “You were looking at scarves with a red-head…”

He heard her gasp as she stilled and it all slammed into him then. The reality of her being so close all those years ago. 

He swallowed, closing his eyes, preparing himself for her reaction, and then turned, blue eyes finding hers in the dim lighting, “I saw you that day…”

She blinked up at him, one hand covering her mouth as tears glistened on her lashes. She shook her head, “That’s not possible...I would have...I…”

A sound escaped her throat as her hand fell to her side, crease wrinkling her brow, and he knew she was remembering. Her eyes widened, tears brimming and then tracking down her cheeks.

“That was you...you were across the street...but I remember the look on your face. It was...broken.”

Her voice trailed off as she stared at him, hands shaking as he watched her process it all.

He could imagine how he looked in those days. He was being broken down into the man he’d become - the killer. Waller and her men had made sure that when he was put back on that island to do their bidding, he was the weapon they wanted him to be. The man Felicity had seen that day in Hong Kong had been on the verge of disappearing and becoming something else entirely.

Imagining her thinking the worst of him brought a sharp, stabbing pain to his chest. He’d remembered that smile for days after seeing her on the street; held on to that gesture of kindness until hell had broken lose once more and he’d sucumbed to the darkness around him.

The soft touch of her hand to his cheek startled him, causing his eyes to fly open, bringing him back from the shadows in his head.

She was closer now, inches separating them as she stood barefoot in front of him on her toes, brightly colored nails standing out against the concrete. He remembered that he’d seen them painted a soft jade.

When his eyes finally met hers once again, he gasped at the gentle look in her eyes as she spoke. “If I had just known then...I would have done anything to help you…”

All the breath left him with her words, emotions flowing through him that he couldn’t completely comprehend. All he knew was relief and wonder and gratitude for everything she was in his life. 

He turned his head into her palm, letting his eyes flutter shut as he reveled in the feel of her soft skin against his. His hands fell to her waist to ground himself, needing to hold on to her as the storm of memories and emotions flowed through him. 

She strained up so their foreheads could meet, noses brushing softly before she angled her head and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

This was not how he’d imagined their first kiss. Not how he’d imagined learning the feel and taste of her. 

But that simple, chaste act erased the fear that had been gnawing away at him from the moment he’d realized it had actually been her all those years ago. The fear of what she would remember, and the heartache of being so close to her and not knowing it. Seeing his future in the middle of his dark past.

He knew her reactions to things should stop surprising him, but it kept happening. Every day he found something else to love her for - big and little - but they all came together to form a woman he knew his heart belonged to completely.

When she began to pull away, he moved in, pressing her closer as he searched her eyes, asking for permission but finding it already granted.

His lips slanted over hers as he slid his hands to her back and lifted, pulling her up and against him. She gasped into the kiss as her feet left the floor, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth pulling a moan from deep in her throat. Her hands wound into the short strands of his hair and back down to his shoulders, touching him everywhere she could and leaving sparks of heat in her wake.

There was no denying how much he loved her. How much he wanted and needed her in his life. 

Even in his darkest times, she’d been there. It would always be her.


End file.
